


An Unexpected Truth

by flibbertygigget



Series: An Unexpected Universe [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Gen, Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: One way or another, Petunia and the boys would have to leave. That had always been inevitable, but Severus had never thought that it would be like this.





	1. Severus

**Author's Note:**

> Ummm... sorry? XD
> 
> Also, this is actually going to be more than a oneshot.

Perhaps it wasn’t wise to push back against the inevitable. One way or another, Petunia and the boys would have to leave. It had always been that way – Petunia would find a job that paid enough for her to pay her own way or Dudley would go off to secondary school or Harry would discover what Severus had done – but Severus had never thought that it would be like this.

He had never thought that he would be the one to make them leave, not directly, and he was finding the idea… distasteful was the classic British understatement. Torturous would have been more accurate. He tried to enjoy the last week he had, but he couldn’t help the way he kept thinking “this is the last time we’ll prepare potions ingredients” or “this is the last time I’ll get to watch Harry play football.” Petunia seemed to sense that something was off, but she didn’t interrogate him. He didn’t know whether he was grateful for that.

And all of a sudden it was Saturday. It was Saturday, and Severus knew that he couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer.

He chose to do the deed at lunch. Not supper, when it could so easily turn into the same kind of scene that had occurred on his doorstep six years before. Petunia had made spaghetti, ironically, and Severus was hit with a horrible sense of nostalgia. If he could have kept this moment suspended forever, he wouldn’t have even hesitated. Severus took a deep breath, and then he said the words that he knew would make things fall apart.

“Petunia, Dudley, Harry,” he said, “I have something I need to discuss with you.” Dudley and Harry looked up from their plates curiously, while Petunia shot him a shrewd look.

“Are you going to tell us what you’ve been moping about ever since your meeting?” she said. “I was wondering when you’d crack.”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Severus said. “Harry, this especially concerns you.”

“Is it about Hogwarts?” Harry said eagerly.

“No,” said Severus. “It’s – It’s about your mum.” Harry squirmed in his seat excitedly, and Dudley wore the look of someone trying very hard not to seem too interested in the proceedings. Petunia, in contrast, grew very thin-lipped and tense.

“What about her?” said Harry. Severus closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see their reactions.

“I have told you before that we were friends,” he said. “By the end of her life that wasn’t precisely true. When we were sixteen, I called her something that destroyed our friendship forever. I called her a Mudblood.” There was a long moment of silence.

“I already heard this from her when it happened,” Petunia said softly. “Why are you acting like I should be surprised by this?” Severus forced his eyes open. Not even Trelawney could have divined the look on Petunia’s face.

“Because that isn’t the end of the story,” he said. “A few years later, when I was twenty, I had fallen in with a bad crowd. You once called them a gang, Petunia, but they would more accurately have been termed a terroristic hate group. They followed the Dark Lord. I was – I am a Death Eater.” He looked over a Harry, who looked confused but willing to listen. Under any other circumstances that would have been a good thing.

“I was tasked with eavesdropping on the Hogwarts teaching interviews,” Severus continued. “One of those being interviewed was the current Divination professor. It didn’t seem to be going well, but then – but then her voice changed. She began to give a – a true prophecy.” He took a deep breath, willing his voice not to shake. “I heard what she said. She said that there was going to be a child born at the end of July, a child who would defeat the Dark Lord. I brought the prophecy back to the Dark Lord and a month later, Harry, you were born.”

There was a long silence. Severus watched dully as Harry’s face morphed from confusion to horror, as Dudley jumped to his feet and backed away as though from a deadly disease. It was Petunia who spoke first.

“So You-Know-Who decided that Harry was the child in the prophecy,” she said. Her voice sounded tinny and far away, as though she was coming from a badly tuned television set. “And he killed her, killed them. He tried to kill them all.” Severus forced himself to look her in the eye.

“Yes,” he said. Petunia rose from her seat, looking almost as if she was in a nightmare.

“You killed my sister,” she said. Severus set his jaw, swallowing back any hint of a sob.

“Yes,” he said simply. Petunia shook her head, trembling.

“Do you-“ She scrubbed a hand across her wet cheeks furiously. “Do you have an ounce of regret?”

 _Yes,_ Severus wanted to shout. _Yes, of course. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. I sold my soul twice over attempting to stop it._

“No,” he said instead, trying to sound as bored as possible, “I can’t say I regret any of it.” He saw Petunia’s movement before he felt it, but he didn’t try to avoid her hand when she slapped him. With a terrible sound that was half sob and half scream, she stormed out of the room. Severus could hear her on the stairs, and he intuitively knew that she was going to throw all the clothes and pound notes she could carry into the suitcases she had taken from Privet Drive all those years ago. He looked over at Harry and Dudley, thinking that nothing could be worse than Petunia’s tears. He was wrong.

“Why?” Harry said in a small, broken voice.

“Because I was a low-level Death Eater and I wanted more. Because that prophecy would give me the power and the glory that came from the Dark Lord’s esteem. Because I had no reason not to.” Severus pushed himself from the table and forced his face into a gruesome smile. “So, now you know what kind of man I am.”

“You – You’re _Uncle Sev_ ,” Dudley said. “I _trusted_ you.”

“Well,” said Severus, standing up from his seat, “maybe you should think twice before doing something that idiotic again.”

He turned away from the boys, from the horror and heartbreak that he could see on their faces, and he didn’t look back. He needed a cigarette.


	2. Marge

Marge Dursley almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the phone ring. She had been down in the basement all day – Daisy’s latest litter was ill – and Charity had been quietly working on her book until she’d gone out to the vet’s for a second opinion. Marge hesitated, but there wasn’t much she could do without the vet, so she made her way up the stairs and into the sitting room. Perhaps the old gentleman was calling her rather than coming in person.

“Hello?” she said.

“Marge,” the voice on the other end said breathlessly. Marge instantly sat up straighter. Petunia rarely contacted anyone of her own accord, and when she did it was almost always a crisis.

“Petunia,” she said, “is everything alright?”

“Marge, is Charity there?” Marge pressed her lips together.

“She’s out at the moment, but she should be back soon,” she said. “Petunia, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain it in more detail once I’ve got us out of here,” Petunia said impatiently. “Snape buggered off somewhere, and I don’t want to see his bloody face again. Now, are you going to tell Charity to come pick us up, or do I have to try and catch the train?” About a thousand questions exploded in Marge’s head.

“What did Snape do?” Marge said. She heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line, almost as though her sister-in-law was in pain. Her knuckles grew white around the phone. “Petunia, did he hurt you or the boys?”

“I said I’d explain later, Marge. It’s – It’s complicated.”

“Forget complicated,” Marge snapped. “Don’t worry, Petunia. I’ll be over in an hour-“

“ _No_.” Marge froze from where she had half-stood in her armchair. “I need Charity, Marge. Her, and nobody else. I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here, but until then you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Alright,” Marge said as gently as she could manage. She didn’t know why Petunia didn’t want her there, but she was trying her damnedest not to feel offended. Maybe Snape needed to be talked down, and Petunia felt that Charity would be able to do that better. Maybe the ghost of Vernon was keeping Petunia from trusting his sister completely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t any of Marge’s business. “Alright, I’ll have Charity come over. Is Severus-“ Petunia hissed. “Is _Snape_ going to be out long enough? Are you and the boys going to be alright?”

“Never mind that. Just get Charity.” Marge sighed, wondering if Petunia was hysterical or just being stubborn. Before she could try and get more information, Petunia hung up. Marge stared at the receiver for a moment, gnawing at her lip in worry, before dialing one of the few numbers she knew by heart. It only took two rings for the vet’s receptionist to pick up.

“Worthington Pet Care,” the cheerful voice on the other end said. “How can I help you?”

“It’s Marge Dursley,” Marge said. “My friend Charity went to get an opinion on some ill puppies. Is she still there? There has been a… development.”

“I’ll just go and see,” the receptionist said soothingly. “Please hold.” Marge suck back into her armchair, fingers tapping on the arm impatiently. Finally, the receptionist returned. “She’s right here. Would you like to speak with her?”

“Please,” Marge said tersely, biting back a ruder retort. There was a moment of silence, and then Charity was on the other end.

“Marge? Are the puppies alright?” Charity said. Marge relaxed slightly when she heard her girlfriend’s high, almost musical voice.

“They’re fine,” she said. “Well, they’re no different than before. But I got a call Petunia.”

“Really?” Charity said.

“Yeah. Snape did something – I couldn’t really understand what – and now she has to get herself and the boys away.” Marge paused, wondering how to phrase what she was about to say. “She wanted you to pick them up, not me. Do you think that Snape… you know… tried to do something that reminded her of Vernon or something?” Charity was quiet for a long, tense moment.

“I don’t know,” she said. “In any case, it doesn’t matter. I’ll go get her and the boys. Do you think we have enough room for them, at least for the night?”

“We have a guest room, don’t we?” Marge said. “Charity, what’s going on? You’re acting strange, almost as strange as Petunia was.” There was another interminable pause that made Marge want to stand up and start pacing.

“It’s complicated,” Charity said. “I know what Petunia wants, but it’s complicated.”

“That’s what Petunia said as well,” Marge said, trying not to sound too annoyed. It was a losing battle if there ever was one.

“I know,” Charity said. “I know this must sound horrible, but I promise that I’ll explain everything once I get Petunia out of there. Just – Just please trust me.”

“I trust you,” Marge said with a sigh. “I just wish that you’d  _explain_ , rather than beating around the bush.”

“Thank you, Marge,” Charity said, sounding relieved. Marge instantly felt guilty. She hadn’t meant to make Charity think she was… doubting her or whatever. She was just annoyed that everyone seemed to know what was going on except for her. “I’ll go get them now. Put a kettle on, dear, right away. I expect that they’ll need a cup of tea.” And with that Charity hung up, leaving Marge to question why the hell she should put the kettle on right away when it would take two hours for Charity to go to Cokeworth and back.

“I said that I trusted her, didn’t I?” Marge muttered to herself as she plugged in the electric kettle and measured out the tea leaves into her pot. If this was all for nothing, she’d drink it herself. Marge nearly jumped out of her skin for the second time that day when she heard the knock on the door.

“What the devil-“ She opened the door to see Charity grinning at her. Petunia, Dudley, and Harry were right behind her, laden with backpacks and suitcases.

“Hello, Marge,” Charity said. “I hope you put the kettle on.” Marge blinked once, twice, but the four of them didn’t disappear from her doorstep. It made no sense whatsoever.

“What the devil?” she said again, not really knowing what else to say. Charity turned back to Petunia.

“Petunia, be a dear and explain everything to Marge, won’t you? I have to go and make sure that nobody does anything foolish.”

“You don’t know what that bastard did, Charity,” Petunia said darkly. Charity took Petunia’s hand consolingly.

“No, but I think I have a good idea,” she said. “And he’s not the only fool I’ve got to look out for. I don’t even want to know what Minerva will think if I don’t run interference.” She looked back at Marge. “I’m sorry about all this, Marge. We’ll talk later, alright?” With a sharp crack she had disappeared into thin air. Marge shook her head in amazement. It had been a very odd day.

“Well,” she said to Petunia, who was glaring murderously at the spot where her girlfriend had disappeared, “I suppose that you and the boys ought to come in.”

“What?” Petunia said. Marge stepped back from the door to allow the three of them through.

“I’ve got the kettle on,” she said. “You can have a cuppa and tell me just what Se – Snape did to you.” Petunia hesitated, but a long last she nodded. “By the way, how are you even here? And what happened to Charity?” Petunia sighed.

“Magic,” she said. Marge stared for a moment, waiting for Petunia to crack a smile and admit that it was all a prank, but her sister-in-law was deadly serious.

“Ah,” Marge said, “I hope that’s one of the things you’re planning on explaining.”


	3. Harry

Harry couldn’t taste the tea that Aunt Marge handed him. He couldn’t hear the hundred things that Aunt Petunia called Uncle Sev. His mind was moving fast, so fast that the first thing he really felt was the way that the hot liquid seared his tongue when he tried to sip it.

“Ow!” he said. Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge both looked at him weirdly. “Sorry. It’s hot.”

“Marge, I hate to put you out, but I’m desperate,” Aunt Petunia said. She sounded tired and not like herself at all. “Would you mind us commandeering your spare room for a little while?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Petunia. You can stay as long as you’d like,” Aunt Marge said. “Vernon never visits since I started dating Charity, and all Charity’s friends – well, she _said_ that they lived near enough that they never had to spend the night. I suppose it was true, in a way, for her sort.”

“You’re taking this rather well,” Aunt Petunia said. Aunt Marge shrugged.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” she said. She sounded like she was quoting something. “And I’ve never been the sort to ignore the stuff out of my star, not like Vernon. Magic’s just another thing.” Aunt Petunia’s lips pursed.

“We should get the boys to bed,” she said. Beside Harry, Dudley jumped up, apparently eager to get away.

“We can do it ourselves, Mum,” he said. Aunt Petunia seemed to hesitate for a moment.

“I do have some more questions about all of this,” Aunt Marge said helpfully. That decided it. Within a few moments Harry was following Dudley up the stairs and into a large, plain spare room.

“Well,” said Dudley, flopping down on the bed, “what do you think about all this?” Harry blinked. He hadn’t expected Dudley to just come out and say it like that.

“What?” he said blankly.

“Why do you think Uncle Sev was being such an arse?” Dudley said. Harry sat down on the floor, just… sat. He didn’t want to think about Uncle Sev. He didn’t want to think about anything at all.

“Did he have to have a reason?” Harry snapped. “You heard him. He told – He _told_ , and now my Mum and Dad are dead. Maybe he just wanted to make me suffer too.”

“I don’t think so,” Dudley said quietly. Harry perked up. Dudley had been really quiet since Uncle Sev had – since he’d done what he’d done. Harry had thought that Dudley was just upset, like him, but he should have known that Dudley had been thinking.

“What did you figure out?” Harry said eagerly.

“I think,” Dudley said, “that Uncle Sev told us about – about all that for a reason. You remember how he got called away for that meeting last week?” Harry nodded. “I think that this has something to do with that.”

“What do you mean?” Harry said. Dudley sat up, fiddling with a hole in his jeans.

“I mean,” he said, “that I think Uncle Sev was lying. Not about all of it – there would be no reason for him to make up something that elaborate. But I think he was lying about not regretting it.” Harry was vibrating with excitement.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“Of course not. I can’t be sure without talking to Uncle Sev, and Mum won’t be allowing _that_. But it all fits. Way back before we were born, Uncle Sev and your mum had a falling out when he called her a bad word. He went and became a Death Eater, while she went and had you. But then,” Dudley’s voice sped up, sounding about as excited as Harry was, “but then he told the Dark Lord about the prophecy, and when he found out that it ended up with your mum and dad dying he regretted it. And then we showed up on his doorstep because Dad was being an arse, so he helped us because of you.”

“What does this have anything to do that meeting he had, though?” Harry asked. Dudley’s eyes scrunched up in concentration.

“Maybe…” His eyes widened. “Maybe it has something to do with Hogwarts.”

“What?” Harry yelped.

“You’re going to Hogwarts once summer is over. Uncle Sev was called away to Hogwarts for a meeting. Whatever was going on, it didn’t matter before now, otherwise why would he choose _now_ to tell us?” A picture was starting to form in Harry’s mind. A vague, hazy picture, but he could definitely see the outline of what had been really going on. “Uncle Sev – Before he left, he told me not to trust him. He told me not to do anything as stupid as trusting him ever again.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry breathed.

“Yeah,” Dudley said. “It all fits. The only question left is _why_.”

“Why?”

“Why does someone at Hogwarts not want us to trust Uncle Sev and why did Uncle Sev decide to go along with them?” Harry’s eyes were almost as large as his glasses.

“So, why?” he asked. Dudley shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t have enough information. That’s why we can’t let on that we know Uncle Sev was lying to anyone, not even Mum. And that’s why you’re going to pay special attention to what Uncle Sev and all the other teachers do at Hogwarts once you go. That’s the only way we’re going to get to the bottom of this.” All of a sudden, Harry’s stomach sunk.

“Me? Why me?” he said. Dudley looked at him like he was stupid.

“Because you’re the one going to Hogwarts, obviously.”

“I don’t want to have anything to do with him!” Harry yelled, jumping to his feet. “He killed my parents!”

“The Dark Lord killed your parents-“

“And Uncle Sev pointed him their way and pulled the trigger.”

“You don’t have to forgive him.” Harry glared at Dudley. “I mean it, you don’t. Mum doesn’t sound like she’s going to any time soon. But there’s more going on behind the scenes, and we’re only going to figure out what is if-“

“If I keep an eye open. I know.” Harry suddenly felt horribly tired. He walked over to the bed and flopped down next to Dudley, closing his eyes against the horribly pitying look that his cousin was sending him.

“You know that I’d do it myself if I could,” Dudley said.

“Only because you think I’m unobservant,” Harry said, trying for light-hearted. He felt Dudley shift next to him.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”


	4. Minerva

When her fireplace flared early one afternoon, Minerva didn’t know who she expected. Severus, perhaps, or maybe Rolanda. Perhaps the last person she expected, though, was Charity Burbage, who by all rights ought to have been having lunch with her Muggle girlfriend.

“Charity? Is something wrong?” she asked. Minerva finally got a good look at Charity, and what she saw startled her. Charity looked _furious_ , her eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “Charity Burbage-“

“Oh, something is very wrong, Minerva,” Charity bit out from between clenched teeth.

“What is it?” Minerva said.

“Severus,” Charity said, “has decided to be an idiot again.”

“That isn’t quite the revelation you seem to think it is.”

“He is being idiotic even for him,” Charity said. “He told Petunia – How much do you know about his past?”

“Less than I’d like.”

“More than most, if you know enough to want that. He decided to tell her about how he became a spy, while leaving out the whole spying bit.” If Minerva had been a different type of middle-aged woman, she would have clutched at her chest melodramatically. As it was, she simply pursed her lips.

“I see,” she said. “ _That_ is one of the many stories I would dearly like to know. I gather that leaving out his… efforts in the war served only to put his actions in a less than favorable light.” Charity gave an unladylike snort.

“You could say that,” she said. “Petunia called Marge, acting like Severus was about to turn Dark again. She and the boys are going to take our spare room for now.”

“Well, at least they’re being taken care of,” Minerva said. “Why are you _here_ , though? I would have thought that you would be off comforting Severus.”

“I need backup,” Charity said, using one of the many blunt Muggle turns of phrase that she’d been taught by first Severus, then Marge. “I have a feeling that he won’t take very kindly to me trying to help him. He needs someone he sees as a superior, and that means you.” Minerva sighed, looking at the paperwork that desperately needed to be dealt with before school started.

“Very well,” she said. “Lead the way.” Charity hesitated. “You have no idea where he is, do you?”

“I have a suspicion,” Charity said. “He’s not at his house, I know that much. The other options are either here or at a pub, and I can’t very well search every pub in Britain.”

“He wouldn’t be at a pub, actually,” Minerva said. Charity looked at her curiously. “You haven’t noticed how he avoids going out like that, even to the Three Broomsticks? I’m not saying he doesn’t drink, but, well…”

“It’s complicated,” Charity said, finishing Minerva’s sentence. Minerva nodded.

“He does tend to make things that way, doesn’t he?” she said fondly. “Come on. He’ll be in his rooms if he’s at Hogwarts at all.”

It’s a long walk down to the dungeons, made even longer by the anxiety churning Minerva’s stomach. Charity was marching in front of her, more determined than Minerva had ever seen the younger woman. When they finally got to Severus’s door, Charity pounded on the wood furiously.

“Open up!” she barked. “Severus Snape, I swear to Merlin-“ The door opened a crack, too small for Minerva to see inside. “Good. You’re here.”

“Where else would I go?” Minerva frowns. Severus’s voice is little more than a hoarse whisper, filled with some emotion that she’s never heard from him before.

“Petunia called Marge. She and the boys are taking our guest room,” Charity said. “You could have gone back to your place.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I wouldn’t kick them out.”

“I don’t think that Petunia is planning to go back any time soon,” Charity said.

“Regardless-“

“Why the hell would you lie to her, Severus?” Charity interrupted. For a moment Minerva thought that Severus was going to slam the door in both their faces, but then, to her surprise, the young man heaved a sigh and opened the door further.

Minerva pressed her lips together to keep from making the sort of noise that would no doubt offend Severus. The boy looked terrible. His hair stuck up in all directions, no doubt from his pulling at it, and his eyes were red from crying.

“I suppose I ought to invite you in,” he said, “seeing as neither of you can take a hint.”

“It’s not about taking a hint,” Charity said. “It’s about you being a complete moron. Now answer my question.”

“What makes you think that I lied to her?” Charity rolled her eyes.

“Because I know you,” she said.

“From what Charity’s told me,” Minerva added, “you seem to have given the – er – impression that you were a Death Eater without pointing out that you were also a spy.” Severus turned his icy gaze to her.

“And you seem to have forgotten,” he said, “that I am a Death Eater.”

“You _were_ a Death Eater.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Albus would not have hired you if that… episode was not in your past.”

“You’re a fool.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging ruthlessly at the ends, and Minerva was struck with the overwhelming urge to clasp his wrists and ensure that he couldn’t hurt himself again.

“I don’t think so,” she said instead. Severus shook his head.

“You’re a fool,” he repeated, “in multiple ways. For one, you take Albus at his word. Any sensible person would want me as far from this school as possible. For another,” he gulped, and Minerva could tell that this next point was the most important one. “For another, you have no guarantee that the past will remain so.” Minerva felt her stomach clench.

“What do you mean?” she said. Severus looked around distractedly, anything to keep from looking her and Charity in the eyes.

“The Dark Lord survived that night,” he said.

“That’s impossible,” Charity said. “I’ve been to the memorial at Godric’s Hollow. The house damn near exploded. Even if You-Know-Who survived whatever happened, he would have been found in the wreckage.”

“Oh, his body was destroyed. It has weakened him considerably. Nonetheless, weakened does not mean dead.” Severus’s left hand clenches into a fist. “The Dark Lord had… ways. Ways of contacting his followers, of bringing them to him. The Mark isn’t visible anymore, but I can still feel it beneath my skin. It’s… It’s _waiting_ for him.”

Now that she had all the pieces, Minerva was able to put everything together with ease. She was, after all, suspended between the two principle characters, deputy to one and mentor to the other. She only wished that the picture she had constructed wasn’t quite so bleak, so hopeless, so… final.

“I understand,” she said. Severus’s eyes jerked her way. “That’s why you stayed here, even though you never seemed to really want to teach. That’s why you wished to push them away – it would be impossible to resume your role as a spy with it being known that you had also raised Harry. My only question is-“

“It was foolish,” Severus interrupted. Minerva was about to nod in agreement, but, “I took them in during a moment of weakness. It should have never happened this way. It would have been better for everyone.”

“It wasn’t weakness,” Charity said.

“And that wasn’t what I was going to ask,” Minerva said. “What I really want to know is why you decided to tell them of your past, of all things? Surely there were other ways, ways that would have been kinder for you?”

“I don’t deserve kindness, all things considered,” Severus said. “After all, I did manage to rather muck up the lives of not only the so-called Boy Who Lived, but also two innocent Muggles. Besides, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, more or less. It would have all come out eventually.”

“Then what’s this rot about you killing Harry’s parents?” Charity snapped. “Just because you were a Death Eater doesn’t make you responsible for everything they did.” Severus made a terrible noise, a humorless laugh that seemed to be torn from his lungs.

“Don’t you get it? I didn’t lie. I didn’t so much as muddle the dates to make myself look more aware. Just because you’re too bloody obtuse to figure out what that means doesn’t make it a lie.” The picture grew sharper, the lines less blurry and the colors more vibrant. Minerva was horrified by the implications, by the secrets the young man in front of her hid, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t known was possible. It wasn’t anything she couldn’t stand to know, which meant that there was only one response that she could give.

“Tell me,” she said, placing a hand on Severus’s arm. “Tell me everything.”


End file.
